Innocent? I think not
by LamsNotLambs
Summary: John Laurens has done the unimaginable. His life is going downhill, all because of that one little thing. Modern (I guess) AU.
1. Don't Think, Just Remember

I glanced around. _Where am I?_ I thought. This isn't my apartment. I tried to focus my vision but it seemed determined to stay blurry. That person, they're not Alexander, no. I can just ever so slightly make out their short hair. But still, this doesn't seem right. I then realize my hands. They are drenched in crimson colored dried blood and there are bruises covering my knuckles. Did I do this? I bring my hand to my nose. I can't smell anything, so that must mean it's been a while since whatever I have done. I also notice my clothes. My jeans are ripped, which is definitely not the style of them. My shirt has blood dotted all around it.

"So, why did you do it?" The short haired man asked.

"Wha-why-I, I don't know what you're talking about." I responded, taken aback.

"Why did you do it to Alexander Hamilton, huh? Alcohol, drugs, did he cheat?"

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"You really don't know do you?"

"Well I can't barely see, that's a nonstarter!" I replied, my temper starting to crumble.

"What was the most recent thing that you remember?" Stubble sighed, his face clearly screaming "Honestly just talk. What's a police officer supposed to be, patient? I have a life here. I do not care if this is the end of yours."

"I'm," I thought for a few moments. It comes back to me. Or so I thought. "I, I think I was at, some sort of place, where people were eating and drinking..." I paused. Who was there? What is that called, a place where people eat and drink? Yes, a restaurant. "A restaurant. Definitely not a bar. Well, um, Alex and I were there. I think there might've been somebody else talking to us." Were they bothering us or were they being friendly? "They were much larger than me and Alex, and, so, like, we were, uh, I'm pretty sure we were having a normal and friendly conversation. Next thing I know I wake up here, which was approximately 30 seconds ago."

Stubble just sighed and called to somebody else, "He doesn't remember anything!"

The person replied in a feminine voice, "Just get his parents and throw him in a cell 'till then."

Wait, no. Not my father. Anything but Henry Laurens. He's going to be so mad. No. Mad is not the word that could describe him. Enraged. Consumed in pure anger. Although, he is a lawyer. Maybe, just maybe, he'll bail me out. But why? I ditched him and left him in the dust back in South Carolina.

I'm about to protest against this until somebody comes into the room. They have a sheet of paper in their hands.

"As you requested," He said, talking to Stubble, "Alexander Hamilton has had injuries-" Oh no. "That include a broken wrist on the right hand," He writes with that hand. I hope it heals soon. "A swollen black eye that will most likely lead to infection if we don't stop it, and most likely amnesia. However, we'll only find that out _if_ he wakes up. The chances of regaining consciousness are slim to none." No. No. No. How can he say this in such a monotone voice? This can't be happening. No. I shatter my thoughts. Denial won't get me anywhere. I let go of denial and grab hold of positivity. I accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative. Yes. Yes he does have a broken wrist which makes an inability for him to write. He can spend more time with me and less time writing. Yes. Yes he does have a black eye. Yes. The doctors will be able to fix it. Yes. Yes he probably has amnesia. Yes he might forget about me. Maybe not. We have strong memories. Yes. Yes, I can show him pictures of the two of us. Denial gets back into my hands.

No. He won't wake up. The denial struggles and falls out of my tight grip.

Yes. He will wake up.

It's only a matter of time.

* * *

And now I'm here. Alone in a room. With my father. He is infuriated, but I don't blame him. It's a long drive from South Carolina to New York.

"So apparently you murdered your boyfriend." It looked like it took him all the effort in the world to say "your boyfriend". He continued. "Have you finally learned your lesson?"

I was about to kill my father right then and there, just like how I killed Alexander. Poor, innocent Alexander. But I calmed myself. "Alexander isn't dead."

"Yet." He responded. You have no idea how close I was to pouncing on top of him. I was beginning to think that my previous thoughts of murdering my father were actually incredibly reasonable. But alas, that will get me nowhere. I can only beg.

"Sir, can you please bail me out. I don't remember a thing that happened and I can't become a lawyer if I'm not cleared of all charges." I pleaded. I sound too desperate. He will say no. But he is pretty enthusiastic about me beginning a lawyer. Him. Enthusiastic. About ME!

"Fine." I sighed in relief, I was not expecting this. "But with one exception." Of course, there's always a catch. Nothing in life is free. "You will stop dating that Hamilton boy and you will never talk to him again or I will disown you." He was serious this time.

"Yes sir." I muttered. I wonder what being disowned from my father will be like.

* * *

I have 2 more days in jail until I can leave. I ask to be posted on Alex, but I'm not. He could be DEAD for all I know.

I try to be useful. I think about what happened that day, but I just can't figure it out.

I _can_ remember snippets though. Alex and I walked into a restaurant. Most likely holding hands because we often do that wherever we go together. I probably ordered chicken nuggets, because that's what my mouth tasted like when I woke up after the "incident" happened. This feels weird. I'm often telling myself "Don't think, don't remember," but now I'm trying my hardest to remember. I remember laughing. I could still feel that happiness rapidly draining out of every inch of my body. I remember feeling a sense of intimidation. Or maybe it wasn't a sense. I _was_ intimidated. I remember somebody. I remember them. They weren't Alex.

James.

* * *

 **A/N: PLOT TWIST TO THE PLOT YOU JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT! YAY!**

 **I don't know how often I'll update this, so... yah.**

 **Happy Mardi Gras to anybody who celebrates it!**


	2. It Was Just the Truth

His eyes flickered open,staring at his unfamiliar surroundings. He couldn't remember a thing. Not just from recently, but nothing. Even after concentrating hard for a few seconds, he couldn't remember what his name was. He tried to rise up from whatever was chaining him down, but he was forced back when he was only a few inches in the air.

He started to panic. Sweat trickled down from his forehead over his eyebrows and into his eyes.

Speaking of his eyes, he couldn't see anything clearly out of one of them. Do I wear glasses? He thought. I must look like a nerd all of the time! He just closed his eyes because leaving them open wouldn't do anything.

Then he noticed his right hand. There was a searing pain, unlike anything that He could remember. Not like I can remember anything. He grumbled angrily to himself. Just moving it a little bit sent a shockwave of pain throughout his body.

Groaning, he attempted to shout, "Help" but all that came out was a raspy, yet loud wail.

He heard some rustling and somebody in a white jacket walked in. He flickered his uninjured eye open.

"Alexander Hamilton?" The person asked.

"What?" He replied.

"Are you Alexander Hamilton?" She repeated impatiently.

"I heard you," He responded. "but I don't know who Alexander Hamilton is. At least I don't think so..." He trailed off.

She sighed, "What's your name, man?"

"I, uh, I don't know." He responded weakly.

"Excuse me." She said, stepping out of the room.

He heard bits of the lady's conversation. Something about "test" "cushion" "ham knees a".

What the hell are "ham knees a"?

A few moments later, somebody new came into the room.

"Hi, I'm Daniel Custis. Let me just ask you a few questions, okay?" After receiving a nod of the head, Daniel continued.

"Who is this?" Daniel held up a picture of the person in front of him.

He thought a bit before responding, "He looks familiar, but I don't know exactly."

Daniel responded with, "That's you, Alexander Hamilton."

"My name is such a mouthful!" Alex laughed. His face turned serious. "Continue." He continued.

"Who is this?" Daniel held up a picture of John Laurens.

"Um... maybe it's something Washington?"

Daniel scribbled something down and then said, "That's your boyfriend, John Laurens."

"Wait, what?" Alex responded. "Boyfriend? Am I a girl? Alexander doesn't sound like a girl's name."

"No," Daniel confirmed, "you're a boy."

"That's unethical!" Alex shouted, swinging his uninjured fist as much as it could move before the restraints got control of it.

"Let's get things straight," Daniel said. "You're not."

Alex tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

Daniel chuckled to himself at his horrible joke and explained, "You know, let's get things straight. You're not. Like you're not straight," He sighed. "Ugh, whatever."

"This must be a mistake," Alex said, shaking his head. "Lauren is a girl's name. You just said her name backwards. Did you mean to say that Lauren John is my girlfriend?"

Daniel sighed, "No, John Laurens. But can you tell me who your parents are?"

"James and Raphael, wait, no. Wait, wait, wait. Rachel. James and Rachel."

Daniel bit his lip. "And, where are they?"

"With us, on Nevis, of course!" Alex laughed.

"You're in America, not Nevis." Daniel said slowly.

Hamilton snorted in reply, "Yea right! We wish!"

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I need to break some news."

"What?" Alex replied, "You are not physically capable of breaking news."

"I mean, I need to tell you some bad news."

"Well why didn't you say so?"

"Alexander, you left Nevis a while ago, due to a hurricane that eradicated your town. Your father left you when you were 10 years old, and your mother died of an illness when you were 12. You wrote about the hurricane and your spectacular writing got people to raise enough money for you to come to America. You've been living here since."

Alex stared blankly at Daniel. He continued. "You're a sophomore at the University of Columbia now with some of your close friends like Gilbert de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan. You and John Laurens have been dating for about a year. You live with your adoptive parents, Martha and George Washington."

Alex tried to process everything, but all he got out was, "Can I see... John?"

"Yes- of, of course!" Daniel stuttered, surprised by Alexander's answer. "He will be with you in just a moment."

Alex sat in silence for about a minute until somebody with extremely fluffy hair and freckles walked into the room.

"Um, Lexi, do you remember me?" Laurens said nervously.

Alex stayed quiet, racking his brain to remember the person in front of him.

"Uh? Baby Girl, you okay?"

Some memories came back to Alex at that moment when he heard John say Baby Girl.

"J-John?" Alex said, reaching out his hand.

"Yes?" John said rushing over and holding Alex's hand.

"I, you, um..." Alex said, thinking.

"You love me?" Laurens asked, joyful tears filling up his eyes.

"No, uh, I, um, I forget what it's called," Alex resigned, slumping back on the bed.

"Just describe it," Laurens said, biting his lip.

"So, I went to this girl's house. I think her name was Marie?"

"Maria?"

"Yes, Maria. So I went to her house... our relationship was a secret, right?"

"Ye- wait, what do you mean was? Alex, what happened?" Laurens cried, shaking his arm.

"STOP! I'm getting to it!" Alex shouted, glaring at John. "As I was saying, I went to her house, and we did this stuff. Like? Reproduction?"

"ALEX YOU CHEATED ON ME?" Laurens screamed, tears trickling down his face. Alex yelling at him a few seconds ago felt like nothing compared to what he was feeling at this moment.

"Uh, yeah! I think that's the word I was looking for. But after that, we went to the bar, Fraunces Tavern, of course. And we got some drinks, you were there too. And then the police just showed up, like BOOM!" Alex said, making large hand motions and laughing when he said "boom."

"I think I would've preferred to stay in prison instead of visiting you today," Laurens said, striding out the door while holding back a tsunami of tears.

Once he closed to door he sprinted to the bathroom and cried. He didn't know how long he was in there, but he poured all of his feelings into the tears and his choked sobs.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger! (Sort of)**

 **I'm so sorry I didn't update this for over a month! I didn't think it was this long and I've just been working on other things. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner.**


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